


One Week

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Apologies, Arguing, Established Relationship, M/M, Makeup Sex, Rumors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-06
Updated: 2012-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-30 17:23:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/334236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something's up with Nick and Lester.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Week

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a birthday fic for talliw.
> 
> A note about OCs:  
> Primeval fandom on LiveJournal has generated a number of fanon OCs, created by different authors and freely used by others, to the extent that some of them have now taken on lives of their own. The one that appears in this fic, Lyle, belongs to fredbassett.

On Monday, Abby noticed that something was wrong.  
  
“What’s the matter with Cutter and Lester?” she asked Connor.  
  
“Is something the matter with Cutter and Lester?” Connor replied absently, his attention obviously more than half on his computer.  
  
“They’re not talking to each other.”  
  
“That’s their default setting, isn’t it?”  
  
“No, their default setting is to argue and snark furiously, then sulk at each other for about ten minutes, before the arguing starts all over again! But this morning they don’t seem to have spoken to each other at all.”  
  
“You’re probably just imagining it,” Connor said dismissively.  
  
Abby sighed. She wasn’t so sure about that…  
  
*   *   *   *   *  
  
On Tuesday, Connor decided that maybe Abby was right.  
  
“You’ve worked wonders with this, Connor,” Cutter said enthusiastically, bringing a flush to the young man’s face. “It’s a brilliant idea.”  
  
“I’m sure it’ll work,” Connor said earnestly. Then he frowned. “It’ll require a bit of a budget extension, though. Maybe we should get Lester down here, and I can show him my progress. He’ll be sure to authorise the expenditure then.”  
  
“No!” said Cutter sharply. “Lester doesn’t need to be here.” Then he seemed to realise that Connor was looking at him oddly. “I mean, we’ll get Jenny to speak to him,” he added quickly. “She’s good at talking people into things.”  
  
“Well…”  
  
“Just get started on the modifications – the budget will look after itself.”  
  
Connor frowned as he watched Cutter hurry away. Something was definitely weird here…  
  
*   *   *   *   *  
  
On Wednesday, Jenny wondered what on earth was going on.  
  
She looked despairingly between Lester and Cutter. The ARC’s weekly progress meetings were never the most fun of experiences, but this one had become a nightmare, to say the least.  
  
Cutter was pointedly avoiding even _looking_ at Lester, while Lester was directing withering glares at the professor every time he opened his mouth, apparently uncaring that everyone else had noticed the friction between them.  
  
This was ridiculous. They were getting nowhere. As Lester delivered yet another scornful putdown of one of Cutter’s theories, accompanied by another disdainful look, Jenny interjected smoothly.  
  
“I think it’s time we broke for coffee, don’t you?”  
  
Perhaps after a break certain people would be in a better frame of mind.  
  
Although somehow she doubted it.  
  
*   *   *   *   *  
  
On Thursday, Lyle wanted to bang some heads together.  
  
Unfortunately, he couldn’t find either of heads in question.  
  
“Where’s Lester?” he asked Jenny.  
  
“At a meeting with the Minister. He’ll probably be gone all day.”  
  
“Where’s Cutter?” he asked Stephen.  
  
“Working from home today. He said he can concentrate better there.”  
  
“Translation – he wants to avoid Lester. What is going on between those two? They’re driving everybody nuts!”  
  
Stephen shrugged. “No idea. You’re know what they’re like.”  
  
Lyle rolled his eyes. He did indeed know what they were like. But they weren’t normally _this_ bad…  
  
*   *   *   *   *  
  
On Friday, Leek tried to cheer his boss up.  
  
Bypassing Lorraine, he fetched a cup of coffee and took it in to Lester.  
  
“I didn’t ask for that,” Lester said as he set it on the desk.  
  
“I know. But you looked like you could do with it.”  
  
“And how do you know what I could do with?” The tone was acid, and Leek recoiled slightly. “I would have said you’re the last person in the world qualified to make that assumption.”  
  
“Oh, I don’t know,” Leek replied brightly, looking for some common ground. “I’d think Professor Cutter would be…”  
  
Lester looked up quickly. “Get out, Leek,” he said flatly. His voice now brooked no argument.  
  
Leek went. So much for that idea.  
  
*   *   *   *   *  
  
On Saturday, Stephen went to talk to a friend.  
  
“What do you want?” No anomalies meant Nick had worked from home for the rest of the week, only occasionally calling the ARC to check some things with Connor.  
  
Stephen decided to go straight for the jugular. “Whatever this thing between you and Lester is, you need to sort it out.”  
  
“There is no ‘thing’ between me and Lester.”  
  
There was something in Nick’s voice that sounded odd, but Stephen couldn’t place it. So instead he sighed loudly.  
  
“Yeah, right,” he said sarcastically. “I believe you, thousands wouldn’t.” Stepping close to Nick, he looked directly into the other man’s eyes. “Sort it out,” he repeated clearly. “Having the ARC’s head of management and head of science at odds like this is ridiculous. And more than that, it’s dangerous. Something could go seriously wrong, and all because you two are behaving like children.”  
  
Hoping that he’d made his point, Stephen turned on his heel and left, leaving a blinking Nick Cutter behind him.  
  
*   *   *   *   *  
  
On Sunday, someone apologised.  
  
James groaned as he felt Nick’s cock pushing into him, splitting him apart and filling him up.  
  
“Oh god, yes…”  
  
Nick leaned over to kiss him hard, before starting a slow deep rhythm of thrusts that brushed against James’ prostate with every pass, sending spikes of pleasure through his body.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Nick panted, repeating his earlier apology.  
  
“It doesn’t matter.” James exhaled the words in gasps as Nick pressed deep into him.  
  
“It does,” Nick insisted.  
  
“No…it…doesn’t.” James looked up his lover. “I can’t even…remember…what we were arguing about now. Can…you?”  
  
Nick paused suddenly, making James whimper with need. Then he chuckled – a low, dirty laugh that shot straight to James’ cock – before resuming his thrusts.  
  
“Not a clue.”


End file.
